A Waiting Game
by everlovingdeer
Summary: "It was a pleasure to meet you," he said quietly, eyes flickering around the room so they didn't need to meet mine. "Thank you for keeping me company Miss –" "Lynn." I finished for him. "Miss Lynn." He inclined his head slightly before disappearing into the office.
1. A Waiting Game

The old, pompous men who worked for and run the ministry were the bane of my existence. Angrily reorganising the papers that had been placed on my desk, I let out a deep breath to steady myself. This was only a setback. I'd overcome their prejudices and climb up the ranks and then I'd fire them all. Yes, that was what I'd do.

They had given me a secretarial position – because I was a woman and I quote 'women aren't meant to deal with the important things' – bloody imbeciles. I had applied for a more senior position in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and on paper, my application had been impressive enough for them to want to offer me the job straight away. The owl they sent me had said as much. It had gone on to state that they needed to organise a meeting with me – one that would purely be a formality but upon realising that I was a _woman,_ one that had just left Hogwarts at that, they had made me a secretary.

I was stuck behind a desk, acting as the secretary for one of the more senior employees within the Department of International Magical Cooperation. And, to rub it in even more, the man I was working for had been the one to dismiss me simply because of the fact that I didn't have a penis – like that meant anything. The man they eventually offered my rightful job to was a real fool and the injustice of it all made me want to pull at my own hair.

"Erm, excuse me?" a voice called out cautiously, bringing me from my rapidly darkening thoughts.

I cleared my throat, straightening myself out, looking over the man who was standing in front of my desk. He glanced down towards the ground as he shuffled on his feet. Tilting my head curiously, I looked over the man whose behaviour screamed that he wanted to run away. Most of the ministry employees seemed to think that they were entitled to my attention – professional or otherwise – simply because I was a secretary and they were of a higher rank.

"I'm sorry you had to see me in that state," I apologised, waiting for the man to raise his eyes to mine but he didn't. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I've been told to speak to Mr Donavon about being granted a travel visa? For work?" He looked up at me then and still didn't meet my eyes. Merlin, if that wasn't endearing.

"Mr Donavon is in a meeting right now." I gave the man an apologetic smile, "Perhaps you'd like to wait for the meeting to come to an end? He shouldn't be long." He looked away from me and I paused, "Unless, you've got some work that requires your attention."

"I have time," he assured me before hurrying towards the seats that had been set out for the visitors waiting to meet Mr Donavon.

"So, you're work's taking you abroad?" I said after a few moments of awkward silence. Laughing gently, I tried to inject some lightness into the room. "I find myself rather jealous – I'd give anything to be able to get out from behind this desk."

He smiled rather shyly, ducking his head down a little. "I've been commissioned to write a book – on magical creatures."

He said the words as if they meant nothing. But to me, they were something else and I wondered whether this was what people who met their heroes felt like.

"Merlin," I exclaimed, the word coming out like a gasp and it caught the man who just I'd identified by surprise. His eyes went wide, scanning the room as if he thought something else held by excitement. "You're Newton Scamander."

"You know who I am?" Mr Scamander was genuinely shocked at my easy recognition of him.

"Of course I do." I smiled warmly at the man, hurrying to pull out a report I'd hidden within one of the desk drawers to read once I'd finished all of my work. "I've been reading your latest report on the declining birth rates amongst Bowtruckles – it's fascinating stuff." His head bowed slightly at the compliment, red colour creeping up his neck but the smile was unmissable. "Truly, some of the solutions you've put forward are ingenious and I agree with you completely – conservation is the way forward."

"What are you doing in the Department of International Magical Cooperation?" he asked curiously, lifting his head and looking me in the eyes for the first time since we had met. "It is obvious that your passion lies elsewhere so why the Department of International Magical Cooperation?"

"It wasn't my first choice, Mr Scamander," I assured him with a roll of my eyes. "I applied for a researcher position within the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and ended up with a secretarial position within the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

"How?" He raised confused eyebrows and I was briefly flattered by his sudden interest. "I mean to make no assumptions but you seem like a bright woman – you would have been a much better addition to the Department than Mr Harman."

"I know I would have been," I said smoothly, seeing the way he became flustered by his own words and knew not to comment on them. "But, alas, Mr Scamander we live in a world where the male genitals mean more than my qualifications."

"P-Pardon?" he stuttered, eyes wide and he was once again back to not meeting my eyes.

"It seems that some of the senior staff think that a woman cannot be a researcher," I explained, "But I intend to work my way up to the researcher position. At 18 I'm still young so I have all the time to do so."

"I am certain you will achieve it." Smiling gratefully at him for his kind words, I turned to look at the door to Mr Donovan's office which opened.

Mr Donovan escorted his last client out of his office and bid him goodbye. He glanced curiously at the still waiting Mr Scamander and I rose to my feet, catching the older man's attention.

"Mr Newton Scamander is here to see you regarding –"

"Ah!" Mr Donovan interrupted me and I narrowed my eyes at him but said nothing, settling back down into my seat, "Your supervisor has already spoken to me, come in young man and we can get it all sorted out."

Mr Donovan headed into his room without looking to see if Mr Scamander was following him. Mr Scamander rose to his feet, intending to walk into the office but stopped beside my desk.

"It was a pleasure to meet you," he said quietly, eyes flickering around the room so they didn't need to meet mine. "Thank you for keeping me company Miss –"

"Lynn." I finished for him.

"Miss Lynn." He inclined his head slightly before disappearing into the office.

In the ministry, I was simply Miss Lynn – no first name. I was supposed to blend in because I did no work of significance. But I would change that. Merlin, I would change that.

* * *

Mr Scamander, using his words, liked to talk to me because I paid attention to what it was that he was saying to me. But I couldn't understand how it was possible for someone to not pay attention to him when he spoke, when what he was saying was so fascinating?

He had arrived by my desk after having clocked out for the day in order to say goodbye. Once he had been granted the necessary visas for his trip, he had quickly set a date for what was to become a long research trip and the date was rapidly approaching. In fact, it had come so quickly that he was to leave in a few days and had clocked out of work for the last time today.

"Mr Scamander," I called out in greeting to the man who approached my desk as I tidied it up and prepared to clock out of work. Like Mr Scamander, I had the weekend off and was planning to make use of it, especially if the rumours surrounding an upcoming promotion were to be true.

"Miss Lynn," he returned the greeting, waiting for me to grab my bag and step out from behind the desk. "How has your day been?"

"As uneventful as usual," my response was said with my usual amount of boredom but I made myself smile and look up at the taller man who walked silently beside me, his hunched shoulders slightly. "And how was your final day in the office Mr Scamander?"

"I am a little nervous about this trip because it's so different to what I'm used to doing," he admitted as we boarded the lift together and he leaned across to push the button to close it. "But I'm also incredibly excited for the chance to potentially see these creatures in real life."

"Well," I remarked with a smile as we stepped out of the lift, "Feel free to take pictures of these creatures and send them back to your biggest fan. Not all of us are granted such an opportunity."

"I shall make sure to do that," he promised, colour rising to his cheeks as he ducked his head to avoid my eyes. Clearing his head, he forced himself to raise his head, "Would it be a pain for you if I were to write to you during my travels?"

"Oh it would be a terrible pain," my sarcasm was obvious but it made a small smile curve along his lips. "I fear your letters may even make my day, Mr Scamander." As we reached the exit points of the ministry, I cleared my throat knowing that we would have usually parted by now.

Mr Scamander saw no reason to hesitate in leaving, "I look forward to seeing you upon my return, Miss Lynn."

"Wait," I reached out instantly to take a hold of his sleeve. He froze, looking down at my hand on his sleeve and I brought it back to my side.

"Miss Lynn?"

"Would you like to accompany me back to my home?" My invitation startled him and when I realised what I had insinuated, I hurried to rectify my mistake. "There is a going away present that I wish to give you."

My first statement had flustered him but my second seemed to alleviate whatever worries he had previously held. "If you are certain that I wouldn't be intruding?"

"I wouldn't have asked if you were." I offered my hand for him to take, getting ready to apparate us into my home. But he stared down at my hand before looking up at me with slightly raised eyebrows. He couldn't meet my eyes. "Mr Scamander?"

"Perhaps we –"

"I only wish to apparate us into my home," I explained with a slight smile, "It is the fastest way to travel."

"Oh, of course."

He set his hand in mine and I apparated the two of us away before our encounter could grow more embarrassing. Upon arriving at home, I moved away from Mr Scamander and slipped out of my coat, draping it across the back of the sofa. My eyes drifted to the man who was looking around my home with curious eyes.

"Would you like some tea?" I asked, making him look at me.

"If it wouldn't be too much of an annoyance," he said with yet another shy smile.

"I don't think you could ever be an annoyance, Mr Scamander," I remarked as I stepped into the kitchen to fill the kettle.

Setting the kettle onto the stove, I charmed it to heat up before returning to the front room to find Mr Scamander busy with his investigation. Clearing my throat a little, I couldn't help but be endeared by the way he moved away from the pictures he had been previously looking at. He had reacted as though I'd caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing.

"Feel free to get comfortable," I offered as I made my way through the front room and towards the stairs. "I will be back in a second."

Heading upstairs, I summoned his gift with a quick wave of my wand. I caught it with open arms and headed back downstairs and at the sound of my fo-otsteps, Mr Scamander turned to face me. His eyebrows rose in blatant surprise when he looked at what I was holding.

"A suitcase?" He accepted the brown leather case from me, looking at it with curious eyes.

"I've placed an Undetectable Extension Charm on it," I explained quietly, wondering whether he liked it or not. "I know how you like to work in your own space and well – you won't have that sort of space whilst travelling so I thought you could use the suitcase for that purpose? And you won't draw attention to yourself because how much trouble could a suitcase cause? There's even a switch on the latch that makes it muggle friendly – should anything happen."

I forced myself to stop talking, realising that I was rambling and that Mr Scamander had met my eyes head on. His own were sparkling and I swallowed nervously.

"Thank you," he said gratefully, "I hadn't even thought about something so important."

"You're welcome," I said quietly, feeling the colour rise to my cheeks.

The sound of the kettle whistling in the kitchen caught my attention and I cleared my throat. Hurrying into the kitchen, I muttered words about making the tea and used it as an excuse to leave the room. When I was in the kitchen and therefore, out of Mr Scamander's eyesight, I slumped against a wall.

Merlin, I was in trouble.

* * *

He had kept his promise to write to me and for the years he was away they were the only form of communication that I had from him. I did my very best to maintain the professional colleague's relationship that had formed between us and had tried to make sure that my personal feelings had little to no influence over the way I wrote to him and spoke to him. The letters meant that I didn't have to see his face and that way at least, it was easier to make sure that my feelings didn't progress any further.

I also couldn't help but wonder how the older man seemed to find time to write to me at least once every few days but I was glad he did. We spoke of many things – the places he visited, the communities he'd become a part of and the creatures he'd visited which always came with a picture for me to add to my own personal collection.

He also wrote of how useful my suitcase had proven to be for him and the way he'd used the Undetectable Extension Charm was so completely ingenious, yet so him at the same time that I wasn't even surprised. The last letter I had gotten from him had told me of the small colony of Demiguise he had found during his exploration of the Far East and that he had been able to take a young female with him – one that he had named after me. I had giggled at the incredulity of it and had made sure to let him know that in my reply. He had ended the letter by telling me that his next destination was New York where he was planning on stopping for a short while.

The exciting life of a traveller such as Mr Scamander appealed greatly to a secretary like me who was stuck behind a desk. Although, I wasn't exactly a secretary anymore either. I had been moved to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and had been assigned to the Being Division where I had impressed my superiors and was quickly promoted. The looks on those old men's faces was a sight to see and I wish I'd had a camera on me at the time so I could have lived the memory repeatedly.

But that was another matter.

I settled down in my office, getting ready for the beginning of yet another busy day. Looking through the stack of paperwork I split the paperwork into things that were urgent, those that could be put off for a little while later and those that I could do at home if I ran out of time. Just as I made a start on the urgent pile, there was an insistent tapping on my window.

Rising to my feet, I opened my window and allowed the now familiar owl into the room. The owl, belonging to Mr Scamander, perched on the windowsill and I took the letter from him. Rubbing my hand over his tawny head, I handed him some treats.

"I'm really busy," I muttered, "I don't think I'll be able to pen a reply for a while so why don't you get going?"

Without waiting to hear another word from me, the owl flew away and I shut the window behind it. Picking up the letter, I looked down at my name, scribbled across the envelope in Newt's handwriting before adding the letter to the pile of paperwork that I was planning to take home.

Settling back behind my desk, I continued to work on the paperwork in the urgent pile only for my eyes to keep straying to the discarded letter. Pushing away the paperwork that had been urgent only moments ago, I reached across the table to snag the letter in my hand. Leaning back in my seat, I broke the seal on the back of the envelope. Opening the letter, I looked through the pictures that accompanied the handwritten letter.

It seemed like Mr Scamander's Niffler still had a thing for all things shiny, as seen by the picture he'd sent me of the Niffler wearing Mr Scamander's wristwatch. The next picture was one of Pickett, resting on the top of Mr Scamander's head and I got to see the way that his face had changed in the years he had been away. He had been a youth when he'd left for the beginning of his journey, still in his early twenties and now, he was coming to the end of his twenties. Briefly I wondered who had taken the picture for him only to push the thought aside when I experienced a bitter flash of jealousy along with it. Not everyone was stuck in an office like I was.

Placing the pictures aside, I opened the letter and settled back to read through it. Mr Scamander's letters always took some time to read through – they were always over two pages long and as I read through the troubles that he had experienced in New York I shook my head in utter shock. Weren't Gryffindors supposed to be the ones that went on these grand adventures? Although, perhaps I ought to extend an apology towards Mr Scamander because it seemed like the suitcase I'd gifted him had caused a lot of trouble.

He ended the letter by causally stating that he had helped MACUSA to apprehend Grindelwald but that was to remain a secret between us and my jaw had dropped further than I thought was ever possible. He signed the letter as he always did – by simply writing his first name at the bottom which was a stark contrast to how formally I always ended each of my letters.

I went to tidy the letter away when I noticed a hastily scribbled note on the back of the letter and it was obvious that he had run out of paper and forgotten to write about whatever it was during the main body of his letter. My eyes ran over the note, an instant smile appearing on my face.

He was to return home. Soon.

* * *

News of Mr Scamander's arrival travelled rapidly through the ministry and the higher ups within the department were eager to talk to him and find out what he had discovered during his travels. From the rumours travelling around the department, he was to arrive at the ministry today to handle some essential work and as I settled down to begin my work for the day, I wondered briefly about whether I was supposed to expect a visit from the older man.

I dismissed the thought; he had more important things that he needed to be getting on with and I had some more cases to look into. Clearing my throat, I pointedly ignored the thoughts of the man and instead looked to the pile of paperwork on my desk. Merlin, it seemed to grow every day.

Taking some papers from the top of the stack, I managed to read through the first sheet when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," I called out without looking up from the parchment in front of me.

There was the sound of the door opening but no sound of the door closing or footsteps either. I glanced up to see a man's head popped in through the open doorway, the rest of his body on the other side. He had let his hair grow out a little longer since the last time I had seen him – it had grew over his eyes. When my eyes made contact with his, he gave me a slightly sheepish smile.

I rose to my feet, paperwork long forgotten as I gestured for him to step inside. "Mr Scamander, come in." Walking around my desk, I watched him as he shut the door to my office behind him, "Aren't you supposed to be meeting with the senior researchers?"

"That meeting's been scheduled for later," he explained, hovering awkwardly by the door before seeming to make up his mind and sitting down in the chair opposite my desk. "I wanted to speak to you before that."

"You did?" My surprise carried across to him as I settled back behind my desk, filing my paperwork away so that it wasn't acting as a hindrance. "Was there anything in particular or –?"

I left the question hanging when he shook his head. He glanced around the office as if he was checking for something before he reached into his pocket to retrieve a very familiar looking Bowtruckle. Pickett sat agitatedly in the palm of Mr Scamander's hand and I gasped quietly, wondering if I would be able to hold him.

"Now, it's alright Pickett," he said quietly as he extended his palm towards me, "Miss Lynn is an absolutely lovely woman, she won't harm you. Don't you trust mummy?"

"Mummy?" I repeated, ignoring the way I had flushed at his compliment.

Extending my hand towards Pickett, I watched the tiny Bowtruckle look suspiciously at my hand before clambering onto my hand. Raising him so I could see him better, I grinned when I heard Mr Scamander try to explain why he was called mummy rather than daddy.

"It's alright Mr Scamander," I assured him, my eyes not leaving Pickett who seemed to decide that he liked me as he started to nuzzle into my hand. "Oh Pickett, you are a sweetheart."

If Bowtruckles could blush then I think Pickett would have. Instead, he settled for turning his face shyly away from mine.

"You can call me Newt," Mr Scamander suggested, taking me by surprise as I raised my eyes tentatively to his. He cleared his throat, "Really – we've been of acquaintance for years now."

"Alright, Newt," my words were quiet as I handed Pickett back to Newt.

Pickett clambered back into Newt's breast pocket as I settled back into my chair slightly. Newt's eyes were back to taking in my office which I'm told had been his old one. When the Beings Division had been expanded, some of the unused offices – his included, were reassigned to employees from the Beings Division and I had been assigned his.

"I spent a long time looking for you," he admitted when he brought his eyes back to mine, eyes staring at the table where I was playing with my quill. "I searched the entire secretarial department."

"Did you never expect me to be promoted?" I teased.

"It's not that, you are a remarkably bright woman," he turned red at his own admission, "But I would have assumed that you'd have written to me about any promotion you received." His voice became quieter as he commented to speak, "It wasn't mention in any of your letters so I assumed."

"You've just reminded me," I carried on after he trailed off.

He glanced up at me curiously, watching as I opened one of the drawers on my desk. Pulling out a stack of letters, I closed the drawer before extending the pile of letters for him to take. He reached out for them, eyes scanning curiously over the envelope at the top of the pile.

"The letters started arriving after you left New York," I explained, "They're all addressed to you and were sent over by the owls used for international message couriering between the ministry and MACUSA. I think they got sent here because the sender still thought this was your office."

"Thank you for collecting them for me," he said with a smile, picking up the bag that he had set on the floor beside his feet.

"It's no problem, I was going to return them back to the sender but knew you were going to arrive at the ministry soon anyway. I hope it's nothing urgent." Picking up my ink well, I started to needlessly rearrange my desk, "I checked the return address and it looks like they're all from the same woman – a Porpentina Goldstein."

Newt's motion to place the envelopes in his bag slowed. He glanced up at me quickly, meeting my eyes with his startled ones, making me frown as I watched him curiously.

"It's nothing like that," he insisted before I could say another word. "We don't have that sort of relationship – she's a friend of mind, an acquaintance really. Merlin, please don't misunderstand."

I gave him a shocked smile, "I didn't say anything?"

"You're right." He cleared his throat, ducking his head slightly beneath the high collar of his coat. "You didn't."

"Perhaps," I glanced away from the older man, "Now that you are back in London we could start meeting more frequently."

"That –"

Hurrying to explain myself, I added, "I've heard that you might be in need of some help with editing your first draft and it might be a lot to type up on your own. And well, if there's one skill that being a secretary gave me, it was the ability to use a typewriter."

"Oh. Right." He coughed, "Of course. Thank you for your offer."

"Anytime."

* * *

"Are you not heading home?"

Looking up at the sound of the question, I shook my head at the man who hovered by the door, not quite entering the room. "No Mr Morrison, I'm planning on staying to work late today," I explained, smiling at him as I looked at the man who approached my office and now stood behind him, "there's some work left for me to do."

"Well, don't work too hard," Mr Morrison called out as he turned to leave, eyes flickering up Newt's frame to meet his eyes. He glanced back between me and Newt, "We don't want any signs of strain to appear on your pretty little face."

"Of course not," I muttered harshly as Mr Morrison left my office to clock out from work, "Because that's all I'm worth; my pretty little face."

Shaking my head to dispel the dark thoughts, I grinned warmly at Newt who hovered awkwardly in the doorway, eyes following Mr Morrison as he walked to the end of the corridor. Clearing my throat to catch his attention, I ushered him inside and he took the hint. As Newt shut the door behind him, I transfigured my desk to fit two seat two, people sit by side.

Without a word, Newt settled down in the seat beside my usual one and placed one of his bags on the desk. Before I could ask what it was, he started pulling out containers of food that had been placed under the stasis charm. It was as if he could feel my enquiring gaze without looking up to see my facial expression.

"I know that we'll be here for a while and that you said it was fine, but I felt guilty about exploiting your willingness to help without giving you anything in return." He looked up at me then with a shy smile, "So I hoped that food would make up for it."

"Food can make up for anything," I assured him, as I sat down in my seat, moving the food containers aside so I could set my typewriter onto the desk. "But who says I'm not getting anything in return? You keep forgetting, Mr Scamander but you're currently talking to one of your biggest fans and the chance to be the first person to see your latest work is all the payment I need."

His smile, growing more charming every time I saw it, was hidden from me as he pulled a series of notebooks from his second back. My eyes widened at the sight of the notebooks that appeared to be bursting at the seams, random pieces of paper sticking out from the edges. Picking up the notebook that was closest to me, I gently turned each page and took in his familiar handwriting.

"Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them," I murmured under my breath when I saw the title scribbled hastily at the top of the page, underlined twice with a massive question mark beside it.

"It doesn't seem like a stupid name for a book, does it? I've only ever written research papers before so –"

"It's perfect," I beamed, setting the book back onto the desk and loading some paper into the typewriter. "I have a feeling that this book is going to make yours a household name, Newt."

"Well, I'm not sure about that."

"I am," I stated confidently, "So, where should we get started?"

"I was thinking of doing a profile of sorts for each of the creatures but I realise that will take a long time and I don't want to force you to give up so much of your time."

I rolled my eyes, brushing his arm affectionately. Catching myself halfway through the action, I retracted my hand and turned back to the typewriter, "Until the first manuscript of this book is finished, my time is yours."

"If you're sure," he said uncertainly.

"I am," I reassured him, "Now let's get started – we can eat as we work."

And so, we started to work. Newt sat beside me, leaning in close as he dictated what I needed to type out as I had quickly found out that only Newt could decipher what the ragged mess of his notes truly meant. His shoulder brushed against mine as he pondered over the phrasing of the sentence I had just written.

"It would be good if we could add some pictures," he muttered contemplatively when he looked over the finished creature profile I had just written up for the Acromantula. "But I'm not sure how to do that."

"I have an idea," I suggested, leaning across from him to open the drawer where I had kept the pictures he had sent me over the years. He stiffened and I realised just how close I had gotten to him. "I'm sorry," I apologised, snagging the pictures and leaning back to my seat. "I hadn't meant to –"

"It's fine," he assured me with a smile as I handed the pictures off to him to sort through. "I didn't mind."

I returned to my typing as he replicated the pictures, magically attaching a picture to the edge of the paper. Looking over the notes, I started the next creature profile when –

"What's your relationship with Mr Morrison?"

"Excuse me?" I spluttered, realising I had pressed down on random keys because of my surprise at the sudden question. Grabbing my wand, I erased the random jumble of letters, moving the paper back into place. My eyes were wide as I turned to face a rapidly reddening Newt.

"It's just that I didn't want him to think something improper because we were meeting alone," he tried to justify, "So, from your reaction I take it that he's not your partner of any kind?"

I shook my head wildly, my hair falling out of my bun in my haste. "Of course not. And I take it that Miss Goldstein isn't your partner of any kind."

He shook his head just as strongly as I had mine. When he had finished the action, he brought his eyes to mine.

"So, neither of us have a partner then," he murmured, eyes not moving from mine.

"It would appear so," I said just as quietly, turning back to the typewriter as I felt colour creep up my neck.

* * *

Newt dropped by my office with increasing frequency and each time he brought with him news regarding his book which upon its publication, had become a hit. There were rumours of it even being instated as a textbook within the Hogwarts syllabus. But that was still in discussion. His dropping by to my office signalled that he had some news and I knew this time would be no different.

Once he had finished for the day, he dropped by my office, letting himself in. I paused midway through packing up and when I realised who it was, I sent him a smile before continuing with my tidying up.

"How was your day?" I asked, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

"It was busy," he said with a slightly tired smile, "I hadn't realised how many people wanted me to sign their copy of the book. But I managed to get my travel visa organised in time."

"Travel visa?" He bit down on his bottom lip, nodding his head. Smiling bravely, I approached him, "When are you supposed to leave?"

"In a few days," he answered as we both left my office, walking side by side.

"That's extremely short notice." He was silent and I glanced curiously up at him. "Unless, it isn't."

"I've known for a while," he admitted quietly, "But I was unsure of how to tell you. There were moments when I approached your office to tell you, only to chicken out and change my mind."

"Well, you're going for your work, aren't you?" Trying to dismiss the mangled mess of hope and sadness that took root in the pit of my stomach, I smiled up at him, "Besides, we can keep owling as we did the last time and I will, of course, love to help you if you require my assistance again."

Smiling down at me, was quick to turn his eyes away from mine. "Thank you."

"Although there is a higher price this time." My words had him glance inquisitively down at me as we boarded the lift. "I had no idea that you were signing copies – that's my price, a signed copy."

Laughing quietly, he nodded his consent. "If that's all it takes." He grew silent again, taking me by surprise.

"Newt?" Placing a hand on his arm, I watched as he forced himself to smile, shaking his head a little.

"It's nothing," he assured me as the lift opened on the correct floor.

Alighting from the lift, we headed to the exit points. "If you are sure – I guess I shall see you when you get back? Unless you're available to meet before then?"

"I'll owl you."

Smiling in parting, I walked towards one of the apparition points. Growing attached to him was one of the most stupid things I had ever done. The man was out of the country for months, even years at a time and he didn't seem to reciprocate affection of any kind for me. Although –

"Come with me."

"I'm sorry?" My eyes looked over the man who had rushed to cut in front of me.

Newt stood in front of me, blocking my path. He swallowed audibly, gathering his courage as he repeated himself. "Come with me."

"I don't even know where you're going," I protested despite the feeling of my heart picking up.

"Everywhere," he rushed out, "Everywhere and anywhere. I'm starting with Bulgaria first and going from there. So come with me."

"Newt –"

"It's quite impossible for me to imagine leaving you behind with the likes of bleeding Morrison." He looked uncomfortable with the attention that the passing people gave us but continued on otherwise, walking towards me as he spoke, "I've grown too attached to you to just let you go like this."

I looked around at the small crowd that was gathering around us, "What would people say?"

"That we're mad," he said with a shrug, "But I've heard that throughout my childhood and it means nothing to me now. I know it's improper and that society says a woman of 26 should be married by now and be looking after the kids at home –"

He trailed off, laughing when he saw the face I made – he knew exactly what I thought about the 'role of women' as seen by society.

"I'm 27 in a few weeks," I added.

"A woman soon to be 27 then," he allowed, "And they'll wonder how a single man can ask a woman who isn't his anything to travel the world with him, but I don't care. I _am_ asking. So please, please come with me."

Regarding him in silence, I giggled a little when someone from the crowd shouted at me to go with him. Newt, realising the size of the crowd he'd drawn, blushed but kept his eyes on mine. He was waiting for my answer.

"I'm sorry," I apologised as I approached him, rising onto my toes to wrap my arms around his neck. He very hesitantly wrapped his arms around me. "I'm sorry but I can't go with you – you of all people know how hard I worked to get to the position I'm at now and I can't give that up. Not even for the chance your offering me."

"I shouldn't have –"

"No," I said gently into his ear, the hug lingering as neither of us wanted to pull away, "Don't dismiss what you just said. I want to come with you, Merlin, I really do but I can't. But I want what you're offering in the sub context more and when you're back I'll take you up on the offer."

I pulled away from him them, my arms returning to my side. Looking up into his eyes, I refused to move further away from him. He smiled gently down at me.

"Do you mean that?"

"I do." Grinning foolishly, I let out a breath to try and calm myself. "When you're back from Bulgaria, or wherever you're off to, come and find me. I'll be waiting."


	2. Epilogue

_7 YEARS LATER_

The morning in our remote cottage started the way it always did – with the sound of my husband chasing after his Niffler who, by the sounds of it, was doing his very best to avoid him. Some things never changed.

Without a sigh, I went to sit up, rubbing my eyes when the bedroom door flew open. I looked to the doorway, already knowing what was to come. Sure enough, my son ran into the bedroom and dived straight into the bed. He knew he wouldn't be allowed into the bed if his father was still here and relished the chance to curl up beside me.

"Good morning mum," Jacob greeted, sitting up on the bed beside me. He reached up to push the mess of reddish brown curls, that he'd inherited from his father, out of his eyes.

"Good morning sweetheart," I said back, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head before proceeding to kiss the whole of his face. He giggled, trying to get away from me.

There was an almighty crash.

I pulled away with a sigh, rolling my eyes. My son mirrored the gesture and clambered out of the bed, already knowing that our morning of relaxing had been cut short. Sliding out of bed, I grabbed my wand and nightgown. Putting the gown over my pyjamas, I padded down the stairs, ready to do some damage control. Jacob followed me, eyes scanning the scene for his dad.

"Now wait a minute," I heard Newt say quietly from the front room, "You _know_ that doesn't belong to you. Just give it back and we can –"

There was the sound of something hitting the floor and I assumed that Newt had attempted to catch the Niffler only to fall on the floor when the mischievous creature darted away from him.

"Listen here." I rounded the corner to see Newt, sprawled on the floor like I knew he would be. Still dressed in his pyjamas, Newt approached the Niffler cautiously, arms outstretched towards the creature and I sighed.

"Jacob, sweetheart," setting a hand on his shoulder, I gently nudged him in the direction of the kitchen. "Why don't you go and get one of the house elves to fix you up some breakfast? It looks like mummy's going ot have to help daddy so I won't be able to make you breakfast."

"Ok." He turned to leave before pausing and tugging on my arm to catch my attention, "But be careful of the baby."

I said nothing in return, simply watching him head off into the kitchen. He really _was_ incredibly bright for a four-year-old. Looking back to the spectacle my husband was putting on, I was surprised to see that he had managed to corner the creature who was having fun playing with my husband. But I knew it wouldn't last – it never did. Just as I had predicted, the Niffler had scrambled over the sofas and narrowly avoided Newt's hands.

"Now, be a good boy and give mummy the –"

"I thought we agreed that I was mummy?" I called out, walking into the room, and catching Newt by surprise. "You remember what happened when Jacob overheard you asking the creatures to call you mummy, don't you?"

"It took forever to teach him that I was daddy," he mumbled as he rose to his feet and taking me in his arms to press a kiss to my cheek. "Good morning, love. Did we wake you?"

"You always do," I nudged him slightly, dropping a brief kiss to his lips as I elbowed him out of the way. "So, what was it this time, then?"

Instead of answering with his words, he raised my left hand to my gaze. My eyes narrowed in on my left finger, before moving to the Niffler who was giggling quietly in the corner of the room, staring down at us from one top of the shelf. Honestly, how had the little bugger even managed to get it off my finger?

"Oh," I said plainly, mind whirring on what I could do to get my wedding ring back.

"Oh?" Newt repeated, growing slightly incredulous as he stared between me and the Niffler. "He's got your wedding ring and all you can say is 'Oh'?"

"You know he'll give it back eventually." Reaching up to pat his cheek, I made my way slowly towards the Niffler.

Newt's eyes followed my progression through the room. "What are you doing?"

"Dear husband," I muttered, eyes focused on the creature who tilted his head curiously as he saw me hand my wand off to Newt. "I am going to test one of your hypotheses."

"Which one?"

"You'll see." Throwing him a smile from over my shoulder, I focused my attention back on the Niffler. "Now, you don't want that silly ring, do you? That old thing?"

The Niffler narrowed its eyes and I pointedly ignored Newt who simpered, hurt by my words. Honestly, why did the man not know that that ring was one of my most cherished possessions?

"There's something better that." My words tempted the Niffler who leaned down towards me a little. "All you have to do is give me my ring back." He grew alert, clutching the ring to his chest as he eyed me suspiciously. I smiled reassuringly, "I promise."

He seemed torn between wanting to see what was more precious than my wedding ring, and wanting to keep said ring to himself. Keeping my eyes on the Niffler, I untied my gown to show the bulging bump hidden from sight by my pyjama top. The Niffler's eyes grew wide, following the movement of my hand as I rubbed my stomach.

"Now, isn't this much more precious than a ring? This is one of my favourite gifts from your mummy. Can I have the ring back then?"

The Niffler reluctantly handed the ring back to me and I promptly replaced it on my finger. He stared at me, waiting for me to do what I promised and I rolled my eyes before settling down onto the sofa. The creature moved instantly, draping itself over my stomach with a content sigh.

Rubbing my fingers over its head, I smiled gently as my eyes moved towards Newt who hadn't moved from his spot. He continued to watch the interaction with interest and I laughed gently.

"I take it that this supports your hypothesis then? That Nifflers prefer precious things rather than just sparkly things?"

He nodded, approached the sofa to kneel before it. Taking my hand, he murmured a sticking charm to keep the ring in place and thwart any more of the Niffler's attempts. When he was done, he pressed a kiss to my fingers and rubbed a hand over my stomach, being careful not to jostle the Niffler who had fallen asleep. The Niffler had finally found the most precious thing in the room and could now rest easy.

"You want to go and write about this, don't you?" I asked knowingly.

Newt grinned sheepishly, "I might even include it in my next report."

"Well, when you go towards your office, can you pop into the kitchen and fix me some tea and breakfast? It doesn't seem like I'll be able to move anytime soon."

"Of course, love." He rose to his feet, "What are you craving today?"

"Thankfully it's nothing that is normally unpalatable – just some pancakes will do." Nodding in acknowledgement, he went to leave the room when I suddenly remembered, "Oh! And check on Jacob, please. You know what a mess he can make."

"Anything else?" he asked, stopping in the doorway.

"Yes actually." I grinned when he rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Your newest report, once you've written it up."

"Anything for the missus."


End file.
